


I Was Glad

by empressearwig



Category: Private Arrangements - Sherry Thomas
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Gen, historical events
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 09:12:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5411213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empressearwig/pseuds/empressearwig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>History conspires to prevent the Duchess of Perrin from seeing her daughter don a coronet of strawberry leaves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Was Glad

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yeoldecatteladie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeoldecatteladie/gifts).



> 1\. Happy Yuletide, yeoldecatteladie! I hope this fits your desire for both curtainfic and actual history.
> 
> 2\. Title is from Hubert Parry's setting of Psalm 122, which was commissioned for the coronation of King Edward VII, and has been used at every coronation since.

June 24, 1902

"Gigi, I believe I shall never see you in a coronet of strawberry leaves," said the Duchess of Perrin. "My dream was clearly meant to be eternally thwarted."

It was two days before the coronation was to have occurred and they were gathered, _en famille_ , at the Tremaine townhouse on Park Lane. They had congregated in the library, as they often did when they wanted to be informal. Informality, however, was not easy to come by when a family contained two Dukes, a Marquess, and a very young Viscount. Still, they did their best, and it was difficult to be too formal when one was constantly at risk for tripping on some overly extravagant toy or another.

Dogs and children played on the floor. The Marquess of Tremaine and Duke of Perrin sat at the tall windows, playing chess. The Marchioness of Tremaine sat with Lord and Lady Wrenworth and her father-in-law, the Duke of Fairford, playing cards, and cheerfully fleecing each other of their pocket money.

And Her Grace, the Duchess of Perrin paced the length of the room, enough worry written across her face, as if she were the Queen herself and her husband had been taken suddenly and violently ill.

It was enough to make one laugh, but Gigi was careful not to let too much of her mirth show as she traded glances with Camden as her mother passed her by. The prompt arrival of three grandchildren had done much to mend their fraught relationship, and she had no wish to ruin it over someone else's stomach ache, even if that someone was her sovereign. 

"Mother, the coronation has merely been postponed. Or were you supposing that there would be some sort of revolt against the Crown before a new ceremony could be planned?"

"Gigi!" exclaimed the duchess. "I was proposing no such thing."

"Are you certain, Victoria?" asked Camden, the somber tone of his question belied by a teasing grin. "It sounded awfully revolutionary to me. Should I send for a policeman?"

The Duchess of Perrin went from pale to to red in an instant.

As if sensing how close his wife was to apoplexy, the Duke of Perrin spoke. "Now children, don't tease your mother." He caught his wife's hand in his as she passed him by, smiling up at her reassuringly. "They'll behave now. Or suffer the consequences."

Claude, the very young bearer of the courtesy title Viscount Hanslow, tugged on his grandfather's hand. "Will they be sent to bed without supper if they don't? That's what Nurse Shaw always tells me will happen when I'm naughty."

With a laugh, Camden scooped up his son and settled him on his lap. "And I'm sure you deserve it every single time, scamp."

"He does," said Lady Corinne from her spot on the floor, and her sister, Lady Carmen, nodded her agreement before turning her attention back to her dolls. From the bandages wrapped around one of them, it seemed that the girls were attempting to recreate the happenings at Buckingham Palace.

With a laugh, Gigi abandoned the game of cards and joined her daughters on the floor. She lifted the bandaged doll for inspection and shook her head. "Whose idea was it to let you hooligans out of the nursery again?"

"Grandmother's!" supplied Claude helpfully, from his father's arms. His father laughed and handed him a tea cake, which the boy bit into with obvious relish.

The duchess narrowed her eyes at her grandson. "I was told that you would be seen and not heard, young man."

At that, neither Camden or Gigi could contain their laughter, and for that matter, neither could any of the other occupants of the library. If there was a household in London where that particular maxim was less likely to apply, none of them could think of it.

"Mother, whatever made you suppose that any child of mine would be capable of such nonsense?" Gigi demanded between laughs. 

"Wishful thinking," the duchess returned. "Give me that child, Camden. You've let him make a mess of himself."

"Yes, Camden, you're letting him make a mess of himself," said Gigi. 

She batted her eyes up at her husband, and he sent her a heated look that promised future retribution. But he passed Claude to his grandmother, who settled the child at her hip, as she dabbed at his face with a handkerchief. 

"Is the King going to be well soon?" asked Carmen.

Surprised, Gigi looked down at her daughter. "I don't see why not," she said. "Unlike your poor doll here, who seems to have come down with a fatal illness of some sort."

"Oh," said Carmen. She looked almost disappointed, and her parents traded questioning looks over her head. Neither of them could understand why their tender-hearted daughter wouldn't want anyone, least of all the King, to recover as soon as possible. It simply wasn't in her nature.

"Don't you want the King to get well?" asked Camden.

"Of course!" said Carmen, sounding so affronted that it almost made Gigi laugh, for how like her grandmother she sounded.

"Then what is it?" asked Gigi, stroking her hand over her daughter's hair. "You can tell me, you know."

Looking ashamed, Carmen said, "I wanted to try on your coronation robes. And I thought that if you wouldn't need them soon, you might let me."

Gigi blinked in surprise. "Of course you can try them on. In fact, I think you should try them on right now." She rose to her feet and held out her hand. "Come on, let's go upstairs."

"If she gets to, I get to do it too!" cried Corinne. "It's not fair otherwise."

"And we do so love to be fair," murmured Gigi. She looked at her mother. "What do you say, your Grace? Are you willing to share your coronation finery with your granddaughter?"

Her mother hesitated, but only for a moment, which was far better than Gigi had expected. She had waited a very long time for her chance to wear that coronet and cape of ermine, and Gigi knew that to let someone else wear it first must have gone against her every instinct. 

But then the duchess passed Claude to the Duke and smiled at Corinne. She offered her granddaughter her hand. "Come along," she said. "We'll see how you look in strawberry leaves, shall we?"

"Mother," said Gigi warningly. "Don't get any ideas."

"Me?" asked the Duchess of Perrin, all innocence. "I would never."

She swept from the room with her granddaughter's hand in hers and the sound of her family's laughter at her back.


End file.
